The Night Shift – Part 1

An Anatomy of Typewriters Story / 3,261 words / 13min Read Time

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The rain outside was falling so hard around me I ran out of my car, through the side door, and into safety. The night shift at Sheffield Mall was probably the easiest job I’ve ever had. And after my years of service to my country I felt I earned a cushy job where I could just put my feet up and take the occasional nap. Nothing ever happened during my night shift at Sheffield Mall.

My boots squeaked on the linoleum floor as I stomped my way down a narrow hallway to the security office. The lights along the corridor flickered, probably from the storm happening outside. I could hear the buzzing of the lights and expected them to fizzle out before I reached my destination, but they held fast. I looked back down the hallway and saw I had trekked wet footprints.

“I hope the cleaning crew hasn’t left for the night,” I muttered to myself as I pushed through the heavy fire safety door. The familiar beep overhead, signaling whoever was in the control room that I had just entered. I saw the small red dot in the corner of the dark hallway; the closed circuit camera capturing my every move in the next room. I wave in the camera’s direction. A buzz and a click unlock a door opposite the one I just walked through and I push that one open, letting in light emanating from a bank of monitors. Nine screens to be exact. They cycle through different points of the mall. The best security has to offer malls of this size.

“Evening, Tripp. How is it out there?”

“Cats and dogs, Guy. Cats and dogs.” Guy had the most active shift of all of us. The security agency we all worked for provided this particular mall with five office managers who radioed the men ‘in the field’ whenever suspicious activity was caught on camera. We each worked six, twelve, or sometimes eighteen hour shifts depending on the need and if there were any call outs. I was working a double shift tonight as I always do on Friday nights. No one wanted to work Friday nights. It meant sleeping most Saturdays to catch up and missing out on time with family and friends. As I’m an only child with deceased parents, an ex-wife of ten years who’s moved on, and no children, I looked forward to my Friday night double shifts.

Guy looked tired. It must’ve been a busy shut down. “You missed quite a dust up,” he said as he sat up in his chair. It squeaked under his weight and his belt of equipment; keys, gun holster, flashlight, handcuffs, the works; made their familiar sounds of movement around his rotund waist. I took a step back to give him room to maneuver past me. The room wasn’t small by any means but it seemed like Guy was getting larger and larger. His shirt buttons stretched to their max. I even witnessed one pop and fly over the monitors. We both stood silently as we heard it ping, ping, ping, and finally land on the floor. I quickly changed the subject to save him from embarrassment and we both pretended like we hadn’t heard, or seen, what just happened. I wondered if that button was still there as I noticed his shirt was fastened with a new, different size and color, button tonight.

“Oh yeah, what happened?” He pointed to the place where his handcuffs normally are, and I saw it was empty. “Really?” In the five years since I’ve been working at this mall I can’t remember handcuffs ever needing to be used on someone. Guy gets all the luck.

He nodded and added, “I noticed him acting suspicious outside Ander’s Antiques.” I felt a chill down my spine. I hated that store. It just didn’t fit with any of the other stores in the mall and I couldn’t understand why it was in the mall to begin with. I couldn’t imagine anyone ever went inside there and if they did, that they sold anything. But they paid their rent on time. I know. I checked. “Then it was like he knew I was looking at him cause he looked up at me through the camera. Creeped me out I don’t have to tell you. I radioed the guys and when he saw them approaching he started running,” Guy continued, pulling a key from his massive key ring that held dozens of keys on it. It extended to a file cabinet under the desk and unlocked it. The top drawer was kept empty at all times. Its purpose was to store our firearm. It was mostly used for the night shift to store our gun. The other shifts typically kept theirs on them even the managers who rarely left the control room. Tonight, Guy opened the drawer to take out the other half of his sandwich that must’ve been his dinner, and his car keys. He handed me the large ring of keys for the mall, leaving the drawer open for me. I pulled my gun and holster from my hip and placed it inside, closing the door and locking it. I knew I wouldn’t need it tonight.

“How did you end up using your cuffs?” I asked, knowing Guy wanted me to ask. He could draw out a story whether it was true or not, interesting or boring. It was up to you to discover which it was and make up your own mind when he was done.

“I knew where he was headed so I ran there to hopefully cut him off,” he said. I raised my eyebrows. I can’t imagine Guy running. He just wasn’t built for speed. He looked at his wrist watch, it was about one minute before our shift change was to take place. He pulled out his timecard from his breast pocket and I did the same. We both stood in front of the antiquated machine to punch in and out of our shifts. According to the other guys who’d been here far longer than myself, this was an “upgrade” from the system before which was done by signing in and out of a log book. 

Guy put in his timecard and it made the punch sound on his card. I followed immediately after him. We both pocketed our card.

“So, you got him?” I asked. I had to.

He nodded. “Got there just in time. I stuck my foot out like this as I walked through the door,” he said, demonstrating it for me. “Caught his foot and he went sliding about five feet that way. I pulled my cuffs and held him down with my knee, waiting for the slow guys to catch up,” he continued, winking at me. Yeah, right. The guys who walked the mall averaged ten to twenty years younger than us. It’s why we’re managers in the control room. But I’m sure for Guy this was as good as it was going to get. I let him have this.

“Damn, I envy you guys in the morning and afternoon shifts,” I said.

“You should think about switching one day. I’ve always felt your talents were wasted in the night shift. You’d definitely see more action here during the day.”

“That’s alright. I leave the real hairy stuff to the pros,” I said, patting Guy on the shoulder. I hoped he didn’t catch on to my sarcasm and he didn’t.

“Well, if you ever change your mind let me know. I can always put in a good word,” he said.

I pushed the button under the table before I sat down to unlock the door for him to leave and watched him on one of the monitors as he waved to me one last time before leaving. Finally. Alone.

Every shift had a manual that outlined our duties down to the most efficient route throughout the mall we should take. It was meant to maximize our time spent on foot versus back at the control room. All the binders for every shift were thick; filled with added pages of suggestions and changes. The night shift didn’t have a binder. Just four pages held together by a staple. I considered it the first perk of this shift. Not much needed to be done when a mall was empty.

My first duty was to sit. But with Guy having been here I knew better than to plop down in the chair he’d used. We all did. I sat down cautiously and reached down to adjust the various knobs and levers till the chair was back to normal human use. My first night on the job I sat down right away and immediately fell backwards. The chair was set to lean back further than I expected or even knew that it could. Luckily, Guy had already gone so there was no one there to witness my blunder.

I leaned forward and eyed each monitor carefully. Before I did my very first round I liked to see a birds eye view of each camera angle and make sure there wasn’t anyplace I needed to check, thereby changing my route.

It was then that I saw a light go on in Camera 7 in the west wing of the second floor; the food court. The control room is on the first floor of the south wing of the mall. I already know it will take me several minutes to reach the food court, even if I were to take a short cut through the service walkways that security and certain staff used to move throughout the mall during open hours and avoid tourist traffic.

Then I saw a shadow moving around. “Damn it,” I muttered under my breath. I grabbed the large keyring and hooked them on my belt. I made sure I had my flashlight. All I needed to check it out. Then I stopped myself before I walked out the door. It could be the cleaning crew. They start the cleanup immediately after the mall closes, sometimes earlier if it’s not too crowded. I could easily check this by viewing the parking lot cameras. The cleaning crew had their own special area to park that afforded them quicker access to the rear entrance of the mall. There was one monitor just for showing the exterior areas of the mall, specifically the various parking lots, of which there were many. The monitor did its usual slow cycle through each camera, then it got to the parking area for the cleaning crew and it was empty. So, it couldn’t be them up there. I had to check it out.

On my way to the west wing of the mall on the second floor I pulled out my notebook and quickly jotted down the time and where I was headed. At the end of each shift if I did something outside of the norm then it had to be logged. Every now and then our security were audited. This entailed a third party coming in and watching the video footage of any given shift on any given day and then comparing it to the manual and the logs. If something doesn’t match then we could lose our contract with the mall.

I decided to take the more scenic route and entered the main part of the mall. I pulled out my flashlight and pushed the button on the base to turn it on. It’s one of those really large and long ones that can double as a weapon if need be. There are emergency lights that are on in the mall and some light that comes in from the moon when it’s full so the flashlight is important to have. I know every part of the mall by heart after having worked here for over five years now so I could probably find my way with what little light is there but I wanted to get there as fast as possible. 

I walk past the carts that are littered throughout the center of the mall, each of them at one point open and selling little things like phone cases, make-up, watches, and other knockoff cheap items. I found a nearby escalator and took it to the second floor. It wasn’t until I was halfway up with the flashlight pointing straight ahead of me that I remembered which escalator this was. There at the top was Ander’s Antiques. The shop where Guy noticed that weirdo he ended up running after and slapping handcuffs on. I should probably check the logs to see if that all really happened. Guy’s been known to exaggerate what happens during his shifts.

I step off the elevator and let my flashlight survey the display window of the antique shop. There’s a little girl doll in a green stripe dress with long auburn hair; ringlets. Her eyes were wide and her smile just a bit too wide for me. I moved my flashlight to the store next door; lingerie. I never understood why they’d want to be next to a store that sold really old and really strange things but as Guy explained it to me, they had no choice. The location next to Ander’s was the only one available at the time. It seems there have been many different shops that open up in this location. None of them manage to remain for very long.

I swing round the flashlight to the far side of the floor that is open in the middle. All the stores are on the second floor along the perimeter with a waist high glass railing. A few yards away is where the foodcourt area is located. The first thing I see are the tables with all of the chairs turned upside down on them.

The different restaurants are further in. I make my way to the camera where I saw the light come on and find it straight away. A sandwich shop with an empty display case and counter. Everything has been put away. I turn off my flashlight as the light coming from this stall is bright enough. 

“Hello,” I call out but my voice seems to bounce off the emptiness of the place and disappear in the distance. My left hand is poised to grab my gun and groan when I realize I left it in the drawer in the control room. I don’t know why my mind went right to pulling my gun. There’s never been a break-in while I was here so I doubt it would happen tonight. I move behind the counter and towards the back area where the food is prepped. The strong smell of bleach in the air makes my stomach turn and not in a good way.

There’s a closet back here that I’m about to open when I feel a tap on my left shoulder. I turn around quickly and grab the hand of the person, spinning them around and pinning their arm behind their back I slam them down onto the empty table in the middle of the room.

“Coñaso, Tripp! Let me go, man!”

“Hector?” I said and quickly let him go. He grabbed at his arm and rubbed it. Sometimes I don’t know my own strength. “What are you doing here? I didn’t see any cars in the lot.”

It’s important for the night shift to not only know the names of the cleaning crew but their cars as well. It helps to know when they are still on sight, though by the time I show up they should all be gone.

“That moron today made such a mess through multiple stores during the chase, man. They call me in earlier than usual. It took so much of my time I’m just now finishing my regular route. Then, mi mujer calls me up and tells me she’s taking the car.”

“No,” I respond, shocked. I know Hector’s wife. She’s not one to be messed with, for a start. He’s definitely whipped by her though. It’s because she makes more money than him. She bought him the car in question for Christmas last year and since then she’s been known to take the car whenever she wants and he has to either catch a ride with a co-worker or catch the bus. With everyone gone it looks like Hector is going to be waiting for the bus in the rain. A constant reminder why I’m divorced. “You really gotta set her straight, man. Why she take it this time?”

Hector waved me off, like he always does whenever I try to get him to man up to his wife. “Who knows. She means well. And the sex is banging, my guy!” He always says this to me. I’ve seen his wife. I still don’t believe him.

“Hey, sorry about the arm. I saw the light come on and I had to check it out.”

“I understand. I’m just glad you didn’t rip my arm out. I got a game on Sunday,” he said, rotating his arm, pretending he’s throwing a baseball. “I’m actually all done so I’m gonna head out. If I hurry I might catch the bus. Otherwise, I’m gonna be coming back. You better let me in.”

We fist bumped, as men do, and he made his way towards the exit. All crew and security use the same exit. I decided to continue my walk through of the mall, starting on the second floor and doing the loop around before going back to the escalator I used to come up here. I didn’t get an alert to my phone that someone was at the entrance so Hector must’ve caught the bus.

As I approach the antique shop my antennae go up immediately. A light is on that was definitely not on when I first walked by. I grab my flashlight and shine it through the main door. Just behind the counter is an office door that is smaller than the doorway and the light is spilling over the top, flickering, almost like it’s being made by a candle. I reach down with my other hand to the door handle expecting it to be locked. To my surprise it pulls open quite easily.

I take one step inside and shout to whoever is in the back room, “The mall is closed!” No reply. I enter completely and let the door close behind me. From my right I hear someone giggle. I point the flashlight in that direction, where the display window is, but no one is there. I hear footsteps running across the floor, like tap shoes, and I move my flashlight to try and find the source of the sound. All the while the giggles continue.

“Whoever you are, this is not a game!” The faint tapping of keys on a keyboard…no…a typewriter emanates from the back room where the flickering light is. Then the footsteps move again, this time back towards the display window. On route they manage to bump into one of those spinning stand that usually hold things like postcards. But in an antique shop like this, postcards would stand out. Instead, this stand had pocket watches dangling from chains. As the stand spun the watches took flight, some of them falling off and shattering when they hit the ground.

I quickly pointed the flashlight to the display window and noticed something I hadn’t before; the doll. The creepy doll with the auburn hair and green stripe dress. She was gone.